Monday, April 28, 2008

Enough of nightmares and distant storms, it's time to get back to what it is we do here.I've been watching The reverend Wright, and his effect on the candidacy of Barrack Obama. Seems whitey has misunderstood him. Turns out he wants a diverse but equal society. Heck he even wants equal education! You can read his latest drivel here . I as some of you know but others don't, was a student of The Michigan School for the Blind. Funny thing about blind folks: color doesn't matter much. I would never presume to tell you that they're not prejudiced because they are. They don't like certain tones of voice, and accent. Color? Nope, don't even understand the concept. So back to education. I went to school with a bunch of black kids. We went to class, smoked, played sports, hung out, and learned about life together. Some of us were close! How close? Close enough to spend the weekends together in each others homes. Close enough that my brother Michael Baily carried my butt off of the mat when I blew a knee wrestling out of town. It hurt so bad, all I wanted was my mama. All I had was Mike! Some days I miss you so much I weep. Everyone should have a big brother like Mike.So back to Reverend Wright, and his ilk Reverend Al, I don't know what you want?The world moves at it's own pace, and we are all judged on our character, even you.I don't like to hold any man to a pedestal because all flesh is suspect if not rotten but there are at times flashes of wisdom. One of my favorites is from a man that used to run around on his wife. He had a dream, something about being judged on the content of your character nad not the color of your skin. I think I'll leave the judging to someone that can see your character, and yours too Reverend Wright! Meanwhile would you kindley get out of the political process and go back to your flock!

Monday, April 21, 2008

As you can see in the pic, there is a storm close to my home. I took the pic because I've been feeling unsettled. Not yet angry but you can see it in the distance. My energy is widespread and I'm unable to focus. It seems that every time I write something I let it sleep a day and then I can't stand to read it. It isn't that I've nothing to say, but I've plenty to say. Just not sure what it is. I can't seem to get angry.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

The pic is of Bob and Betty Mallard. I think they have a nest in the bushes to the right.It's been a tough week for my family this week. My Dad had hip replacement surgery and none of us could get there to help him. He is a very private person and didn't tell me until I couldn't do anything for him. He preferred it that way. He is an old wolf that I believe still could walk through hell on Sunday. He spent his time on the line. My Great Grandfather came to this country around eighteen eighty. Ireland to England to Canada, and then the UP. His son, my Grandfather was a cook for a while in Europe. The time was WW1; that's how he spent his time on the line. He would come home and raise four sons that would take their place on the line. Dewey, would dive for the Navy, and blow things up in WW2. Edward would fight at Iwo Jima with the ones that raised our flag. William, would be a member of the 11Th Airborne, and earn three purple hearts in Korea. Lenard would get as far as Japan on his way to Korea. They along with their sons and the sons of their sisters stood the line. Some didn't get recognised and some did. Cousin Wayne whose name should be on the wall but agent orange killed after the war. James who was supplying the Marines in Lebanon. Remember Beirut? Yep the Navy was there too. James died not too long ago after a long battle with HIV. Some folks stand the line a bit different than others. (chuckle)I saw in our paper this week that the 218TH SC National guard is coming home. The first group got to N.C. this week. I read where a man spent the night at the airport to greet his wife when she got home after her time on the line. She had been gone a year to Afghanistan as a Chaplin. It would be five more days before she got home so her husband came to her. They had about an hour together. I remember when she left. Don't remember who they relieved. I think it was a group of folks from the NY National Guard. The line goes on forever, and it includes Cooks and Generals, Chaplins and Soldiers, and people from every walk and profession. This week I found out that the line will now include my Daughter. It is her turn to take the place of someone that hasn't been home in a while. As a father I'm a bit apprehensive but I couldn't be more proud.

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

I've been noticing that I can't get anything done well lately. Had a flat over the weekend and had to go to a tire store and buy some skins. I had to re balance them at work that week. Bought a dishwasher from Sears a while back. Nine hundred bucks and eight months later the motor went out. Warranty fixed it and eight months later.... you got it; the motor again. This time no warranty. Thanks Sears and Whirlpool for a great product. Next time it will be Bosh or someone else.So we decide to put concrete under our deck instead of using decorative rock. So we got a couple of estimates and took one. Big company with five crews. Work is short so the price was good, and I was excited to get this done. Tom C was in the business of finishing concrete and doing masonry work for near ten years so I wasn't too concerned about the job. Slam Dunk; right? So after waiting a week we got a team of Mexicans with a truck load of trash that came to prep the site.They needed to put some fill down to build up the site. I had a pile of sand clay mix for that purpose at the side of the driveway. Next to their truck. After much leveling and such they needed product. Run up to the pile and get some right? NO! Lets instead take it out from behind the retaining wall next to the site of the slab! Ohh and we need more so we'll get some by digging a hole in the side of a small hill near by! Thus moving the dirt that I had put down over many hot days, compacting and seeding. Stay tuned for the conclusion of Where'd the yard go?